


Weekends

by irish_macaroon



Category: Yu-Gi-Oh! GX
Genre: Adult Content, Brief Yubel Appearance, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Sex, Shameless Smut, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-12
Updated: 2021-01-12
Packaged: 2021-03-16 11:35:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,636
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28706019
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/irish_macaroon/pseuds/irish_macaroon
Summary: A late night and a lazy Saturday cause Manjome to wake up late for his pro league duel. Not that he seems to mind.Adult characters with adult content.
Relationships: Manjoume Jun | Chazz Princeton/Yuuki Juudai | Jaden Yuki
Kudos: 13





	Weekends

**Author's Note:**

> Hello all! I wanted to take a quick break from my other work to write a self-indulgent fic about my second favorite GX couple. Hope it’s enjoyable!

**Weekends**

If the weekends were meant for anything, it was for sleeping in and sleeping the day away. Shutting the blinds and staying under the covers, pretending that the last week hadn't happened and that the next week wouldn't be as ridiculous. Rolling out of bed just when the sun was starting to think about setting and making a bowl of cereal and calling it a successful day. Wrapping yourself in the blanket left on the couch from last weekend and turning the TV on to watch whatever had been paused when you turned it on last weekend. Finishing the bowl and drinking the milk with the grace of a baby giraffe. 

The milk stain between your legs from last weekend was now replaced with this weekend's flavor. It wasn't a special occasion or anything and plain old 2% functioned well enough to satisfy the need to wash down the granola. No clothes meant no stains and there was no point in worrying about a few drops of milk on the couch cushion. It wasn't the only liquid to dry without being cleaned and it surely wouldn't be the last. 

After more than a few minutes of working up the motivation to actually put the bowl in the sink this time, it was just about time to go back to sleep.

At least, that was the routine for his slacker of a boyfriend. For Manjome Thunder, weekends tended to be busier than any weekday. He couldn't just lay around on his ass all day like a slob. No, he actually had to go out and make the money that paid for their tiny apartment. Not that he didn't have the money from his family's company, but he wouldn't be able to stand himself if he just wasted the days away like Judai. 

And he was going to be late for his duel if he didn't get it together, get dressed and head out the door. But before that, he needed to get a shower and shave. And before that, he needed to get out of the bed. 

Which, wouldn't have been too difficult if his still-sleeping partner wasn't wrapped tightly around him and holding on for dear life. And he was so warm and it was absolutely freezing outside of their full-sized bed. The Spirit-infused Duelist's arms were across the Ojama Duelist's chest, his fingers somehow tucked under Manjome's armpits. Even Judai's legs were wrapped around him. They were bent at his knees and intertwined with his own legs. His head tucked into the back of Manjome's neck and his quiet breathing gently blowing a loose strand of his jey-black hair. 

Delicately, and without disturbing the HERO Duelist, Manjome reached out and grabbed his phone off of the nightstand next to the bed. The screen nearly blinded him and he squinted to read the time. His eyes widened and he nearly choked. 

At almost five o'clock in the afternoon, he had truly spent most of the day in bed. That slacker's bad habits were starting to rub off on him. How had he not noticed? Now he had gone and made himself a hypocrite. But, he couldn't wake Judai up now, with them both still naked in bed. He'd never hear the end of it. Not after the countless times he had criticized him for being lazier than a sloth. 

With the skill of a master thief, he slipped out of the embrace and from under the covers. Immediately, the lack of heating in the apartment was apparent. If it was this cold inside the bedroom, where they had been sleeping all night and apparently all day, it must have been freezing in the living room. Why had they refused to turn on the plug-in heater last night? Looking back at the dead-to-the-world former Osiris Red, he remembered why. And the rush he felt in his stomach confirmed that they really hadn't needed the extra heat. 

Friday nights were late nights for Manjome. When not competing in international tournaments, he was a scheduled competitor at the KaibaCorp Arena in downtown Domino City. As the headline Pro Duelist, he always occupied the primetime 10:00 pm slot. Even quick duels, which tended to be as rare as a cheerful smile from the Hell Kaiser, didn't mean that he arrived home any sooner. He still had to attend the press conferences after the matches and he still had to talk to sponsors at after-parties and events. 

And that meant coming back to their apartment around 2:00 am at the earliest. By which time Judai would be in bed. It was always a game to see if he had gotten out of bed that day. 

Sometimes, there was clear evidence left behind. The local street food vendor always had a special price for his prawn shioyaki on Fridays, and that was about the only reason Judai would get dressed and leave the apartment. Occasionally, he would leave the sticks lying around as evidence. Whether or not he did it on purpose to stick it to his partner had yet to be revealed after over a dozen arguments about the trash. 

Last night had been one of those nights. When the door to the apartment swung open at 1:30 am, Manjome had expected to see a mess of sticks lying around. It had been nearly a month since the last time, and that meant it was surely time for another night of searching every nook and cranny for the skewers. It was more out of genuine curiosity. No one could put food away quite like Judai. In a rare act of cleaning up after himself, a pile of sticks sat on the coffee table in front of the couch. 

It had been a particularly easy duel for Manjome and he was grateful to have gotten home earlier than anticipated. 

As he went to close the door, the key stuck in the doorknob. Another wonderful feature of their living space was the front door. What it lacked in practicality, it made up for by being impossible to open. That included the key. It was always a fight to open the door and take it out. The door never failed to swallow the key and it was all the energy he could muster to jiggle it loose. He could probably get away without locking it. Why would he even need to lock it, anyway? Judai was basically home all the time and if anyone did try to break in, Yubel would more than scare them off. Hell, they still managed to scare him after all this time together. Which they often did to get a rise out of him when he was least expecting it. But then again, Judai's ability to sleep through an earthquake probably meant that he wouldn't wake up to stop said intruder. 

So, without fear of disturbing anyone, Manjome fought with the door over his keys. It was a short battle, but a losing one. As hard as he pulled and as furiously as he shook his keychain, he was unable to pull the keys from the doorknob. With a final yank and a defeated sigh, it was clear that the door had won that first round. 

But, Manjome was nothing if not resourceful, and a recent tournament in the United States had introduced him to a wonderful solution. He was always hesitant to use it for fear of running out of it and, if he was honest with himself, he didn't want to have to use it so often. Looking back, he should have bought an industrial sized container of the lubricant. But, his suitcase was already full and he didn't have the room. That's what he told himself, anyway. 

Letting the door slam as he walked away from it, keys outside to face the world and the cold, Manjome navigated his way to the kitchen. He stepped over boxes, dirty clothes, clean clothes and more envelopes than he could count. And only some of those items were his. Well, most of the envelopes. And the clean clothes. And the dirty clothes. Whatever. But, the boxes were all Judai's. It had been six months since he moved in with him and he still had yet to unpack his stuff. It had become a war. A silent war. With motives and goals that had yet to be voiced aloud. A one-sided war. 

As dirty as the apartment appeared to be now, it was hard to believe that it hadn't been before Judai came. One of these weekends, when he wasn't scheduled to duel, he would clean it up. His stuff, at least. And nag his brown haired, not-quite human boyfriend into finally unpacking his boxes and finishing his move-in. 

The kitchen was in no better shape than the hallway. Or the living room. Or the bedroom. Or the bathroom. Plates and silverware laid strewn on the countertops and in the sink. Muffin wrappers, plastic containers and bits of food filled up whatever clear countertop space dared to exist. Judai spent more time in this apartment than he did, so he should make some effort to clean it. Most of the plates were his, anyway. Of that, Manjome was certain. At least ten bowls had small traces of milk and granola. 

But that wasn't important right now. He needed to get his keys unstuck and crawl into bed. He could feel his eyes burning as he leaned down to open the cabinet under the sink. Searching through the detergent and soap, he found the bottle of WD-40. Navigating his way back to the front door, he sprayed the slot where his keys were lodged. Instantly, the keys slid out with ease. Mocking him. A momentary act of defiance from an inanimate object. It was enough to send him over the edge and a quick lesson needed to be taught. 

He kicked the door shut, like a footballer drilling home a shot from outside the box. It wasn't enough. The door was laughing at him. A fist collided with the wooden frame. He didn't put enough force in to break his hand, but more than enough to satisfy his bloodlust. 

He locked the door, more a formality than anything else, and threw the keys on the couch. They were quickly joined by a wallet and a pair of gloves. An overcoat followed soon after. Having forgotten to take off his shoes, he doubled back to the door and kicked them off on the small towel, next to the smaller pair that belonged to Judai. He wiggled his toes, enjoying the freedom of movement. If he could remember in the morning, he would make a point to get foam inserts to cushion his heels. But right now, there were more important things to do than worry about his heels. 

Even though it felt like he was walking on the bone, he was more tired than he had been in weeks and he couldn't bring himself to try and fix that problem yet. It had to have been close to 2:00 in the morning, and he needed to be rested for another match the following day. As he stripped and tossed his clothes onto the couch, he considered turning the TV on to unwind. But he had no desire to fall asleep on the couch again. That always messed with his neck and he hated that stiff feeling that would accompany him for days after. 

Finally down to just his boxers, he entered their bedroom. Unsurprisingly, Judai was fast asleep. The sheets were over his head and completely covered him all the way to his feet, which poked out and dangled slightly over the edge of the mattress. If it was earlier and he wasn't exhausted, it would have been the perfect conditions to surprise Judai by tickling his feet. The handcuffs were still attached to the headboard rails and Manjome knew that Judai wouldn't be disturbed until he felt fingers on his toes. That was his most ticklish spot. If it wasn't fingers dancing on his toes, Manjome's tongue was more than effective. Hearing the desperate pleas for help always increased his excitement and he knew that Judai enjoyed it as well. 

But, the spot next to his sleeping partner was calling his name and he had almost fallen asleep standing in the entrance to the room. He would have to slide him over to be able to get comfortable, though. While Manjome couldn't see exactly where Judai was, it was clear that he was taking up most of the bed. The short walk to the bed wasn't without its dangers, as his foot found out. 

One would think that they had enough bowls lying around, but damn if there wasn't one more near the foot of the bed. His pinky toe paid the price for the laziness of the slacker. 

"Son of a bitch! You slacker! Why can't you just put your bowls in the sink or the dishwasher? Or anywhere else besides the bedroom?" 

Not a single trace of movement from the recipient of the verbal abuse. The constant rise and fall of the sheets was even more infuriating to Manjome. 

"And you just sleep all day, like that lazy cat, Pharaoh. Seriously? If you weren't just so…"

He was unable to finish the sentence, the fight gone out of him. If the rest of their apartment was anything to go on, he wasn't exactly much better. And he did leave Judai alone frequently. Often for weeks at a time. What did he expect him to do?

He would be paying for it in the morning if he didn't fall asleep soon. Setting aside his fight until the next day, he set about crawling under the sheets. Peeling the covers back, he saw the naked body of his boyfriend. 

A rush taking his breath away shot through his chest. He still felt tingly each and every time he saw that lithe figure. And currently, Judai was sprawled out like a dog on its back, waiting for its tummy to be scratched. 

His palms were by his head and his arms reached fully to each side. His chest, with the slightest hint of hair sprouting at his sternum, sat in just about the middle of the bed. Manjome's eyes wandered further south, pausing at his stomach. No matter what it was that Judai ate, he never seemed to gain any weight and managed to maintain his slight frame. He didn't have bulging muscles or rock-hard abs, but he was trim and that was more than enough to entice Manjome each and every time he saw and thought about Judai's body. What more could he say, he was a man with simple tastes. At least, he liked to think he was. He had been wearing the same jacket for close to four years, despite numerous offerings for new outfits from his sponsors. 

His eyes followed the little happy trail of hair from Judai's bellybutton to his cock and balls. If Manjome hadn't been aroused before he got to this point, he was fully erect now. And more awake than he had been when he first came home. Much like Judai's current position in bed, his dick just laid there lazily. It wasn't just his front that was so arousing. His ass was firm and muscular. It fit so well into the tight pair of black jeans that always drove him crazy. He had to admit to himself that there was something different about Judai's ass in clothing compared to being on display. Especially when he was clad in just his underwear. 

A yawn reminded Manjome that no matter how horny he had just become, he needed to rest more than satisfy his dick. In an attempt to keep himself under control, he decided to leave his boxers on as he maneuvered his body next to Judai. 

They really needed to invest in a bigger bed. His body was halfway on top of the other body in the bed and he still felt like he was about to fall off. Another yawn. That was a problem for another day. 

He settled into the space around Judai's chest, enjoying the warmth that had been left behind. Not to mention the heat coming off the body next to him. In these quiet moments, his former rival wasn't nearly as annoying and he could actually appreciate their partnership. Through their three years at Duel Academia, the two of them never failed to engage in their rivalry, but they never expressed their feelings for each other until after graduation. Judai had been too busy saving the world from power-hungry Duelists, becoming one himself in an alternate dimension, and then saving the world from death itself. It had been a full plate to say the least. In fact--

He felt the air leave his lungs as a pair of arms wrapped tightly around his stomach. At the same time, two muscular legs wrapped around his and pinned him in place. "I was wondering when you'd be getting home." He was trapped. "You took your sweet time with the door. Didn't you want to see me?" 

The whispering in his ear sent a signal down his body to his already straining erection. A soft kiss on his neck, followed by a nibble on his ear made him shiver in anticipation. His eyes rolled when he felt a tongue behind his ear. Judai's arms relaxed and Manjome could breathe clearly again. 

The soft and delicate touches from Judai's hands slid down Manjome's chest, stopping for a moment to tickle his stomach. It wasn't a serious attempt, but it made him jump and try to kick his legs out in desperation. Hands moved lower and stopped at the pair of boxers. A disappointed huff escaped from his equally as horny boyfriend, if the poking member at his waistband was anything to go on. 

"You're still wearing your boxers?" The playful tone suggested a game was soon to follow and as Judai's hands slid under his boxers, Manjome turned to kiss him. 

The coat of pre on his inner thigh brought him back to the present and he realized he had still not left the bed. Every late night managed to be better than the last and the night before was no exception. The dull, numb sensation coming from his ass served as a reminder. And his semi-erect dick was already corrupting his thoughts. Surely Edo could fill in for him. Or the Hell Kaiser. Or even Sho. It wasn't like he had to duel every weekend, right? If he promised to clean one room today, then he could reward himself with a handcuffed Judai, right?

Said person stirred in his sleep, turning and releasing the black haired man from his grip. As the warmth peeled away, a rush of cold air took its place. Goosebumps covered Manjome's arms and legs. If he was ever going to get up, this would be the moment. 

The floor of their bathroom was tile and like all tile in the morning, it would suck all the heat from your body. Not only that, it would also burn your feet for your stupid decision to step on it without any protection. But the war of leaving stuff all over the apartment also included the bathroom and there were plenty of discarded shirts for Manjome to stand on to protect himself. 

He walked to the shower and fumbled with the handle. Twisting it all the way to the right and pulling it up and out, water began to trickle from the head. It would take a while, but the pressure would eventually correct itself. What would hopefully follow would be steam and heat that would warm the smallest room in their shared living space. After relieving himself and flushing, hoping to speed the process up, he stepped in front of their mirror. 

Rubbing his hand across his face revealed a chain of prickly bumps and dark patches. He'd need to shave today as well. The cameras caught everything. And it was well and truly everything. A couple of months ago, a debate over whether or not there had been a hickey on his neck had been the leading story for more than a week. He, of course, denied it to the press. And his agent did an excellent job in making the story disappear. 

Something moved behind him. He squinted, looking through the mirror to their bed. Judai was still passed out in bed. 

Out of nowhere a shadow emerged from the floor and enveloped him. It swirled around his ankles, slowly climbing up his legs. It was freezing. Burning his legs. He jumped, unable to find his voice to call out for help. Wisps of gray and purple danced off the shadow, hitting the floor and then reattaching to the form. It climbed higher and higher and Manjome felt paralyzed. Unable to move. Then, upon reaching his knees, it stopped. It continued to encircle him, constricting like a snake around its prey. As cold and as empty as space, the shadow continued to burn him. All at once, it shot back down into the tile and disappeared. 

Emerging from the floor was Yubel, cackling like a witch. Which, most of the time, was a perfect description of their personality. Manjome's cheeks burned brighter than Ojama Red. 

"I can't believe you fell for it! You're easier to scare than the Ojamas." Those were fighting words. If he had any fight in him. He was just glad he hadn't pissed himself. "Fucking Hell, Yubel!" 

Their laugh continued to echo throughout the room. Shame quickly morphed to irritation. And a bit of curiosity. "Why did you do that? Actually, how did you do that? That felt so real. I thought I was going to freeze to death!" 

They finally stopped their demonic laugh. "Why should Judai get all the fun? And it was so easy to read you. You were cold, so I just tapped into that and you did the rest." As quickly as they stopped, the laughter returned. As they faded away, he was able to hear the whine from the shower head. There was enough pressure now. He would plan his revenge later. But, how does one scare a dragon Duel Monsters Spirit? 

He stepped into the tub. A frown formed on his lips. It was more of a signal of frustration. Turned all the way to the left, the water should be scalding, but no, not in this place. Not in this shitty apartment. 

But, living anywhere else would be too much effort at this point. All his stuff was here, among other things. Emotional things. He was attached to the run down and dysfunctional apartment he called home. 

So many firsts. This was his first place after graduation. It was close to the arena, meaning he could walk instead of taking public transport. The first time he unclogged a sink. How was he supposed to know which side was the food disposal? The first time he repaired a broken refrigerator. Well, that he called someone to repair it. That was probably the worst smell he had ever had the misfortune of allowing to enter his nose. And that included Tyranno Kenzan's sweat-drenched bandanna. 

The first time he ran into Judai was on his walk home from the arena back to this place. Sitting on the front steps in front of the building, that red jacket gave him away long before his face came into view. Weren't students supposed to only wear their school uniforms at school? And it had been over a year since they had all graduated. No one else from his class still wore their Duel Academia uniforms. But, that was Judai. The first time he gave Judai anything to keep was the key to his apartment. Their apartment, now. It was also the first time that the key broke off in the doorknob. That was also a first for the handyman. 

The first time he realized he actually enjoyed the Duelist's company was on the couch in the living room. That was also the same night that the first of many spilled cereals would stain the couch. Their first playful fight. Their first serious fight. Their first houseparty, back when the apartment was mostly clean. And of course, their first time having sex. 

He realized that he had gone from talking about his firsts to their firsts. And that the lukewarm water had gone cold. While he still had shampoo in his hair. That's what he deserved for spending so much time traveling down memory lane. 

Suffering through the next few minutes in the chilly liquid, he washed all of the suds out, down to his scalp. He turned the knob to the right and the water slowed to a drip. Which would continue for at least another hour. It was only when Manjome pulled back the moldy curtain that he remembered that he forgot to grab a towel. And the sudden influx of air punished him for his mistake. His towel was laying out to dry on the windowsill in the living room. 

He could leave to go get it, but what of the people in the apartment complex across the way? They would be able to see in if he had left the curtains open. Had he shut them the night before? He knew the curtains were drawn in their bedroom. That was a given. In the entire time that he had lived in this apartment, he never once opened those curtains. But he couldn't remember whether or not the living room was wide open for all to see. He cared about these types of things. Personal privacy and decency. But, Judai didn't. If he didn't know any better, he'd say that his boyfriend was a nudist. 

He'd have to try and rouse the sleeping man in their bed. "Judai?" He waited a moment. No response. "Judai?" Again, nothing. He was out cold. His neighbors be damned. It was the middle of the afternoon. They wouldn't care if he yelled. 

"Judai!" Third time lucky, indeed. A groggy voice called back, cracked and cranky. "What?" He couldn't help but enjoy that response. One word conveyed all the emotion that was needed. It was satisfying to have ruined his sleep, at least momentarily. "Can you go grab my towel?" An audible groan followed. Exasperated. Like he had never been asked a more taxing request. 

It was particularly enjoyable for Manjome now. He made a mental note to wake Judai from his sleep to do trivial tasks more often. "Where is it?" 

"On the windowsill, where it always is." Another groan. He heard the shuffling of sheets and the creaking of the mattress as Judai stirred himself to life. Footsteps on the carpet floor stopped momentarily as the door opened. The window was lifted up and the towel pulled inside. The window shut with a slam. The footsteps grew in volume and Judai emerged. 

"Anything else, my Lord?" He made eye contact with Manjome and then twisted his expression in thought. "Wait, you're just showering now? It's getting dark. What time is it?" He looked at the watch on his wrist. "6:06? Isn't your match in like, an hour?" He started laughing. "You overslept, didn't you? Mister I can't be a slacker, I have things to do. How'd that work out for you?" 

A wide grin and a cheeky throw of the towel and he was gone. It was on, now. He'd call in sick. He had a good phone voice. There was surely someone who could fill in for him. Right now, he needed to show a certain someone who was in charge. "You better run!"


End file.
